


The Quiet of a Companion

by daredevilmoon



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3867217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daredevilmoon/pseuds/daredevilmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It had been a while, too, since Foggy had come to the gym and extended a just-slightly-bare olive branch - that, though, seemed like a constant yesterday.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Quiet of a Companion

It had been a while since the night Foggy had found him - seemed like years for all that had happened in that span of time. It had been a while, too, since Foggy had come to the gym and extended a just-slightly-bare olive branch - that, though, seemed like a constant yesterday. Their pause had been a great chasm to Matt, one which he was still climbing out of and nearer to the history which he and Foggy shared. One which Foggy hadn’t made quite as many strides towards.

Matt understood why, in a way. He distinctly remembered the way the air had shifted with Foggy’s throat as it contracted beneath each of his questions; the way he smelled so little like himself and so much like hurt; through the thick taste of his own clanging wounds, tears. God, he understood why. Still - still. The slight stiffness to Foggy which lingered kept Matt’s own hurt from healing entirely; he’d never felt that in Foggy before. Others, sure - people rarely seemed to know how to act around the blind guy - but not him. The comfort of their relationship had been shattered.

It was something irreplaceable.

Karen, he knew, was tense with whatever secrets of her own she carried and didn’t know his own; he wondered, sometimes, if she would even mind his being the Daredevil. She had always admired the masked man for what he stood for, not least for having saved her life. Yet even if he admitted his own truth to her, there wasn’t much in the way of history between them, to say nothing of her own truth which he wasn’t owed. He was curious, in the most natural way, but reminded himself of his own secrecy. If anyone was owed her honesty, it sure as hell wasn’t Matt Murdock.

Claire - Claire wasn’t an option. Not for that kind of intimacy. Not for what Matt wanted.

What he wanted was what he had had, what he had spoiled. He missed the physical closeness Foggy had thought was necessary, missed the touching shoulders and absent touches. It was grounding in a way that little else was, the press of Foggy’s heart in a way that Matt could feel through his own bones. It quieted the city even more than Matt was able to do through his own abilities, quieted it to a small bubble wherein only the two existed.

Now Foggy would draw away when Matt touched his arm, knowing he didn’t need the guidance. It hurt in a way that Matt knew he had brought upon himself, yet that knowledge didn’t make it hurt any less. Matt still did it out of instinct, out of a need different to what Foggy imagined - when he would draw himself away, walk slightly faster across the street, Matt knew better than to push.; when he was conscious of that tic of touch, he avoided it.

Sirens blared louder and the pavement shook harder now, each footstep of the passersby hit harder, all the perfumes stronger. He could hear each heartbeat, too, but he tried to focus on the familiarity of Foggy’s - touched his arm again and felt its pulse through his fingertips even as his pace quickened over the crosswalk.

“Foggy,” Matt blurted, following. He lingered slightly behind Foggy, still centring in on his heart and seeing, in fire waves, Foggy turn.

“Yeah, buddy?”

It was so natural a response from him that, for a moment, Matt forgot to be wary of that stiffness he still felt in Foggy’s muscles. He reached out again, running his hand lightly over Foggy’s arm and walking in step with him. Foggy didn’t pull away; now, Matt wondered whether he even meant to.

“I like walking like this,” was what Matt managed to come out with. He didn’t know how else to really say what it was; he’d never been good at things like that.

There was a pause, a heavy one. Matt heard Foggy’s jaw shift and felt his heart rate increase - the city drowned in the sound.

“Me too.”


End file.
